Enquiring Minds Want to Know
by Gabri Jade
Summary: Obi-Wan struggles with an unusual assignment. Vignette, canon compatible.


"Needed, your help is," Master Yoda said solemnly. Obi-Wan Kenobi had heard that tone of voice often enough to know that arguing wasn't an option.

He tried it anyway.

"But Master, a holomag column? What could that possibly accomplish?"

The ancient Jedi Master eyed him sternly, and Obi-Wan had to fight back the familiar impulse to quail before that imposing gaze. A neat trick, that, considering that Yoda was barely higher than Obi-Wan's knee. If he could only replicate that gaze, would it affect Anakin the same way? Doubtful, he thought.

"Concerned about the Jedi image, the Council is," Yoda said, tapping his gimer stick against the mosaic floor for emphasis. "Recent sociology studies show the public opinion of Jedi to be growing unfavorable - as a unreachable elite, they see us! If continue this trend does, difficult will it be for knights to carry out their duties, to connect with and protect ordinary beings! Chosen to help dispel this image, you have been." An air of finality settled around Yoda, and Obi-Wan knew his cause was lost; yet he couldn't quite help one last appeal.

"But why _me_?"

"Because potential you have, Obi-Wan!" Yoda smacked him in the shins with that dratted stick, and Obi-Wan forced back his reflexive grimace. Of course, as attuned to the Force as Yoda was, he didn't need anything as clumsy as facial expressions to pick up on the emotions of others. Obi-Wan knew the diminutive Master's dry chuckle was at his expense, and he had to force back another grimace. "Because faith in you, the Council has. And because a free hour a day you now have, with your padawan having entered Master Xan's hand-to-hand combat classes."

There was a twinkle in Master Yoda's eyes, but the air of finality had become nearly tangible now, and Obi-Wan knew that the discussion was done.

"Yes, Master," he said with a sigh. "But what will I be writing about?"

The twinkle grew. "Prepared for this, the Council has. Questions, the public has, and sent them in, they have. Report to Master Gallia at once; she shall serve as your liaison. Give you the questions she shall, and also review your answers before submission for publication."

Yoda drew himself up to his full height, his stern expression utterly failing to mask the mischief in his eyes. Sometimes, in moments of severe irreverence or exasperation, Obi-Wan felt that Yoda had accepted his long-ago promotion to Master only to be able to order others to accept missions just such as this one, and be amused at the inevitable squirming. "Watching you closely, the Council will be, Obi-Wan. Make us proud, you shall, hmmm?"

Obi-Wan inclined his head dutifully. "I shall do my best, Master."

Yoda harrumphed consideringly, and tapped his gimer stick on the floor with renewed enthusiasm. "Off with you, then! Waiting, Master Gallia is!"

Obi-Wan bowed low, then strode off. Halfway down the long hall leading away from Master Yoda's private office, though, his brisk pace slowed, and he allowed a suppressed groan to escape.

He had a bad feeling about this.

---

Master Gallia had the same stern air that Yoda did, but her eyes were more sympathetic. For whatever small comfort that offered.

"Here is the first batch," she said. "They must be completed by this time next week, at which time you'll receive the next batch."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan took the datapad she proffered, stifling another sigh. Master Gallia smiled at him.

"It's only a few questions, Obi-Wan," she said kindly. "You can handle far greater trials than this."

Obi-Wan managed to smile back. Master Gallia had been close friends with Qui-Gon, and had always treated him with a special consideration; he had even less wish to disappoint her than Yoda. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Master."

She patted his shoulder and smiled again, then left to do whatever it was Council members did when they weren't having mysterious meetings or intimidating knights and padawans.

Obi-Wan returned to his own quarters, arriving just as Anakin did. Anakin chattered endlessly about his first class with Master Iron Hand, Obi-Wan patiently listening and asking the appropriate questions before insisting that Anakin practice his meditation before bed. That engendered the usual protests, meditation being, as Anakin put it, "more boring than dusting Watto's junk shelves."

"But far more beneficial," Obi-Wan said, as he always did, though Anakin only wrinkled his nose in response. By the time he had gotten Anakin settled and receptive, guided him through the basic meditation exercises, and sent his padawan off to bed, he was far too tired to tackle his own latest assignment. He secured the datapad in his desk's only locking drawer and went to bed himself, trying to ignore the lingering sense of foreboding.

---

The next day, Obi-Wan sent Anakin off for his combat class, then made himself a cup of caf and reluctantly sat down at his desk. He took out the datapad and eyed it. There was no reason for such trepidation, he told himself, as sternly as even Yoda could. He had done far more difficult things in his life, and would certainly face similar difficulties in the future. This was a simple task, and the sooner he began, the sooner he would be done.

Holding firmly to that thought, Obi-Wan switched on the datapad. The first question shimmered into existence:

_What do Jedi do all day?_

He felt his shoulders slump with relief. A general question, to be sure, but easily answered. He typed a few paragraphs in response, outlining the various classes and research and practice and meditation that the average Jedi engaged in, and scrolled to the next question with renewed confidence.

_What do Jedi do for fun?_

Hmmm. Well, that depended on the Jedi, but was still fairly easy to answer. Besides, showing the individuality of each Jedi's idea of fun might help make the Jedi more relatable to the average citizen. It was the work of a few minutes to detail the various pastimes he knew many Jedi engaged in, and was relieved at how normal most sounded. Of course the average citizen wouldn't understand Push-feather, but games such as dejarik were widespread throughout the galaxy, Jedi younglings played Hilltop Emperor the same as children anywhere, and the Temple had a variety of holofilms in its library - though, of course, over-devotion to them was sure to earn a scolding from various Masters. There was no need to include that last bit, though. He scrolled down to the next question.

_How does a Jedi sense the Force?_

Obi-Wan took a sip of caf as he pondered. For someone raised in the Jedi Temple, answering such a question was akin to describing how breathing felt. He managed what felt like a fairly accessible response, though, and thought that Qui-Gon might even be proud of his matured understanding of the subject.

On to the next question:

_How long does it take to go to the refresher in all those robes?_

Obi-Wan blinked. _This_ was what people wanted to know about Jedi? Seriously?

He read the question again. It hadn't changed.

Did traditional Jedi robes really look that daunting? He'd seen many cultural ensembles that would seem to be far more of an obstacle in that area, though he'd never really considered looking at clothes that way before. And it wasn't like the robes didn't have certain tailoring accommodations for such matters, though perhaps it was more time-consuming for the female Jedi -

Obi-Wan was suddenly disturbed to realize the amount of thought he was putting into this, and even more disturbed by that last trail of logic his brain had produced. He quickly wrote down a brief but hopefully diplomatic answer, took a calming sip of caf, and moved on to the next question -

- and promptly choked on the caf.

Shining with the usual diffuse glow of datapad text, it read: _Is the Force better than sex?_

For the next several moments, Obi-Wan was fully engaged with sputtering on the remnants of his mouthful of caf; then for another several moments he was busy mopping the damp spots on the datapad and his robe. By the time he returned to contemplation of the question, he'd regained a small measure of composure. A _very_ small measure, but sometimes you were grateful for whatever you could pull together.

He read the question again, then a third time. By his eighth rereading, the question had almost ceased to make sense to him, so swirling were his thoughts with sudden questions and considerations he was much more comfortable without.

Better in what respect? Did the questioner wonder about the emotional health of Jedi? Or did he - or she, Obi-Wan realized, and then promptly banished that possibility from his mind - interpret the Order's widely known prohibition on attachment to mean that all Jedi were celibate? He happened to know that that wasn't the case, but it was hardly something one spoke about even in the Temple, let alone to non-Jedi - let alone to non-Jedi-completely-anonymous-strangers. Besides, he wasn't about to go up to any Jedi and ask, "By the way, Master So-and-so, do you recall that nice young lady you met on that last mission to Malastare? Well, I was wondering, which would you rank higher, that experience, or the Force?" He shuddered at the thought.

Or was the questioner asking if the Force enhanced sexual experiences? Or even if the Force could be applied in such a way that - Obi-Wan brought that train of thought to a screeching halt, feeling his face warm. _He_ had certainly never tried such a thing, nor was he about to ask any other Jedi if they had. A wild image leapt into his mind of himself soberly asking Master Windu that very question in the name of research, and his face warmed to a dangerous degree.

Then an even worse thought occurred to him: Yoda had said that Master Gallia would review his answers before submitting them. Adi would be reading whatever he wrote in response to this outlandish question. A Master he'd known and looked up to since childhood - a _female_ Master he'd known and looked up to since childhood - _would be reading his response._

_Oh, no. _Obi-Wan's head dropped into his hands as he narrowly resisted the temptation to simply bang it repeatedly into the desk instead. Adi was Siri Tachi's old Master, and the two were still close - aside from confidential Council matters, he strongly suspected that what Adi knew, Siri eventually knew as well. Siri would probably see whatever he wrote.

Then he _did_ bang his head into the desk as he realized his stupidity. Of course Siri would see it. _Millions_ of people would see it - this was for publication in Coruscant's most popular holomagazine. The average reader would not know that the answers had been written specifically by Obi-Wan Kenobi, since it was an anonymous column on behalf of the Order, but he had few illusions about how many Jedi would soon know. Jedi could generally keep secrets very well, but when missions were not confidential, they were often common knowledge almost before they were assigned. He wouldn't be surprised if half the Temple already knew that this duty had fallen to him.

Obi-Wan straightened in his chair and contemplated that horror, and for the first time in his life, he found himself genuinely sorry that he hadn't been shipped off to the Agricultural Corps after all.

He leaned an elbow on the desk, rested his chin in his hand, and forlornly read the question for the ninth time. It hadn't changed, he was still on a deadline, and if he didn't write an answer soon, Anakin would be back before he was done and demand to know what he was doing. He blanched at the thought, and began to type the first thing that came to mind.

_Such matters are not spoken of -_

No, Yoda had said that the Council was concerned about the Order's reputation. An answer like that would do little to make Jedi seem approachable - although, Obi-Wan thought with sudden irritation, it would make matters much simpler if fewer people thought of the Jedi as approachable in _this_ particular fashion.

He deleted the bit of text and began again.

_Both the Force and sexual relations have their place in life -_

No. He sounded like one of those nature holofilms that Master Nu always insisted the younger padawans watch. He hit delete.

_The Force completes a Jedi's life; however, for matters of procreation, it is sadly lacking -_

Absolutely not.

_Pertinent to such a discussion would be matters of various species' biological needs -_

Which he was not about to get into in any detail. He deleted the text.

_While Jedi are expected to refrain from attachment, not all such matters are forbidden -_

He pictured Siri's face as she read such a reply. He pictured Adi's. He pictured Yoda's.

Then he hit delete, and banged his head against the desk a few more times.

Sitting up again, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and glumly eyed the datapad. He thought again of Anakin returning before he'd answered this question and locked the datapad away. With a sigh, he began to type again.

_For Jedi and non-Jedi alike, sexual matters remain an intensely private experience, and one that most would prefer keep so. Additionally, since the Force and sexual relations occupy very different aspects of one's life, the comparison would require a more specific consideration to be truly valid._

Obi-Wan read it through, and decided that there really wasn't much more he could do with such a question. His face still burned at the idea of Adi reading this, but if the Force was merciful, maybe only a quarter of the Temple's denizens would realize he'd written the answers once this column finally appeared. At least there were no more questions - this week, anyway.

He sighed, then saved his answers and locked the datapad back in the desk.

Just in time; Anakin came bounding through the door a mere ten minutes later, full of excited commentary on his new class and classmates. Obi-Wan listened distractedly, then sent Anakin off to bed and was surprised at the alacrity with which the boy obeyed. Several hours later, as he lay in bed himself, trying not to think about That Question and his pitiable answer to it, he realized that he'd forgotten to make Anakin meditate, which was probably why the boy had been so swift about getting to bed when Obi-Wan had dismissed him. Oh, well.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, and Obi-Wan turned his datapad back over to Adi at the appointed time, trying hard not to blush as he did so. Adi herself didn't seem to notice anything untoward, merely thanking him and handing him a new datapad. She promised that a copy of the holomag would be delivered to him when the column was published; a rare and fleeting glimpse of fame for a Jedi, she told him with a smile, even if it was anonymous fame.

Obi-Wan thanked her in return and fled the scene.

---

Four days later, Obi-Wan had answered that week's questions - all much more sensible and innocuous than the last week's, thank the Force - remembered to make Anakin meditate every night, and generally fulfilled his duties and tried hard to forget about the column. He was doing a reasonably good job at that last, until he came back to his rooms after lunch and discovered a new datapad at his door, with a note from Adi. He took both and disappeared into his quarters before any passersby could ask what he was holding.

The note was brief, with Adi's usual warmth, saying that the Council was pleased indeed with the job he was doing, and would not forget his efforts. Obi-Wan would have much preferred that they forget everything about this, but decided that his life would never be that simple. He started to pour himself a cup of caf, then thought better of it and sat down to read the column without any liquids nearby.

It was easy to find; the holomag was obviously proud of their journalistic scoop and featured it prominently.

Obi-Wan could hardly bring himself to look. He read out of the corners of his eyes, cringing preemptively - wait a minute; where was it? The question he'd agonized over, that he'd pictured making him the laughingstock of the entire Order, was - nowhere to be found.

He read the column again, sure he must simply have missed it due to wishful thinking, but no. All the other questions were there, but not that one. Torn between relief and outrage, Obi-Wan could think of only one course of action to follow.

He marched to Yoda's office and demanded an explanation.

---

The corners of Yoda's eyes wrinkled even further with amusement as he watched Obi-Wan sputter in indignation.

"Attached to that question, were you, Master Kenobi?"

"Master!" Obi-Wan felt the blush spread to the roots of his hair. "Certainly not."

"Then why all this commotion make you?" Yoda asked reasonably.

"Well, I - I mean - that is to say -" Obi-Wan came to a confused halt. "Master - I tried so hard to find the appropriate wording -"

Yoda gestured for him to sit on the low chair opposite his own, and leaned over to pat Obi-Wan's hand reassuringly when he did so. "Print such a question, we would not," he said. "Wish to remain accessible, we do - to a reasonable degree! Some questions, though, best left to sludge magazine speculation are, and not with our cooperation. Now that realize we do the public asks such things, screen further questions before passing them to you, we will."

Obi-Wan blinked in dumb relief at the little old Jedi opposite him, then ducked his head in gratitude. "The kindness is much appreciated, Master." He opened his mouth again, then closed it without speaking. Yoda's face crinkled even further with silent laughter.

"And yes, though you remain silent - impressed the Council was with your answer. The makings of a true diplomat have you, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan flushed again, and he no longer knew whether the embarrassment came from the thought of the Council reading that answer, or Yoda's praise. "Thank you, Master."

Yoda chuckled his dry, throaty little laugh, then poked Obi-Wan's shins with his gimer stick. "Away with you, now. Much work you have to do with your padawan, I am sure."

Obi-Wan rose obediently, bowing and turning for the door. Halfway there, a thought occurred to him, and he turned back. "Master?"

Yoda was tracing invisible patterns on the floor with the tip of his stick. He looked up at the question, ears lifting in acknowledgment.

"If the Council saw fit to exclude the last question -" he hesitated, but the curiosity was simply too much. "Why did they leave the refresher question in?"

Yoda's face crinkled until his eyes were barely visible, and he cackled with laughter. "Master Kenobi, ask such a question you must? Remain an enigma to the public, we must not - and _everyone _wonders about that!"


End file.
